[center][h3][color=ed1c24]Children of Ivalice[/color][/h3][/center]

	Having made yourself at home among the wayward populous; the Commanding Officer, Rodrick Vernire (a venerable human hedge-knight now leader of the Children) has seen to your accomodations. Though it has been only a couple of hours since a well dressed rider on horseback entered into the garrison's head-quarters, you've heard murmurs of the new band of people that had been let through the gate. They call themselves Shepards, though not of sheep. They claim to be a militia of their homeland of Ylisse, a nation foreign to you. You could attempt to approach them if you wished, but before you can, you're delivered a message.

	[@Evanist]To the one named Erion: He'd shortly be visited by a Seeq in chainmail armor carrying a letter. Though somewhat abrasive, Erion can tell the portly being is trying his best to be courteous, "M'lord," his speech a mix of gruff tones and snorts, "I come bearing a message, I have." With that, he hands you a wax sealed missive before bowing and running off... Awfully fast for one so heavy set. As Erion read over the letter, he'd realize he's been requested to tend the stables and the creatures within. Mostly chocobo of many colors, a few of the visitors horses, pegasi, and wyverns have been loged here. Though many of the riders are attending their own steeds, it is asked that he manage the beasts who have lost their owners. Though the Commander does not offer compensation in the form of gil, he's offered him a place to stay in the garrison for as long as he remain in the city. At the bottom of the missive is a small line of subtext: 

'[i]From one knight to another, these people have need of us. I pray you might aide us in assisting them.

Humbly,
	Sir Vernire[/i]'

	[@Lugia]To the one named Robert: He is intercepted in his current task by the graceful visage of a Viera, dressed in a rather complimenting red gown with a pristine metal rod at her side. As she looks Robert over, he can't help but get the distinct feeling she is judging him. After a moment of awkward silence- and her ignoring whatever he may ask or say- she waves her hand for him to follow. As she turns to leave, she stops halfway; her eyes fixed upon Robert, waiting for him, "We've not long. Your presence is requested upon the wall."

[center][h3]Shepards of Ylisse[/h3][/center]

	As you've began to take in the sites and sounds of the city around you, you can't help but notice the lack of a strong military presence. Despite this seeming to be a makeshift stronghold, there are very few guards; stationed mostly at the only entrance to the town and a few near the graveyard. Yet, despite their readiness to take up arms, they are few in years and just by the way they hold their weapons, you can tell most have never held them before. A senior mercenary closer to the center of your band merely chuckles, "Aye. Rather nice coffin they've built for themselves." This remark gains him the ireful stares of many within your own party, not to mention the few civilians who just happened to overhear.
	
	[@Cyrania]To the one named Jo-anne: As she went about whatever tasks she had set aside for herrself, Jo-Anne couldn't help but see a rather odd duo approaching her. One was the floating fluff-ball she had noticed earlier, seeming whimsical in nature in his slightly dingy white robes, holding aloft a small wooden rod in his hand. To his flank -and in stark contrast- stood a tall elegant woman with ears of a rabbit, dressed in a leather two piece that covered her bust and lowered body. They spent a moment looking her over before the little one spoke, "You are an odd one, kuppo. What tribe does this one come from?"

	The taller female staggered her stance as her arms crossed under her chest, "It's hard for this one to say she is of our kin. Perhaps she has a name she wishes to tell?"

	[@Eklispe]To the one named Arus: The outspoken words of his callous comrade behind Arus had garnered quite the attention of the crowd around them. As such, it seemed that every pair of eyes- both familiar and foreign- were staring daggers into the man.

	"Oi! Can't these people take a joke?" The same mercenary whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Arus and few others to hear. Despite his dismissive claim, it's clear the man was merely trying to hide behind the guise of a jest. Though it seemed the damage had already been done as a trio of natives approached the caravan from Ylisse.
	
	"You've alot of nerve stranger. Walking into our city, accepting our hospitality, and mocking our state of affairs. Nothing more than a cur if you ask me," A stocky scaled being called from the front of the group, flanked by a draconic winged female to his left and a rather porcine-looking man to his right. Though their anatomy were foreign to Arus, he could tell they held at least some hostility, "Vernire should've left you out of the keep to rot!"